I was on Cooper Street, staring down at a man, didn't know his name. He was walking up the street, going somewhere.
I walked out of an alley and started to follow him. I came very close behind him, and scraped his arm very lightly with a knife, but just enough to cut him.
The man spun around, "Ow!" he yelped. He looked at me, assuming it was an accident.
I pretended to be surprised, "I am so sorry. I really should put my knife away when I'm out walking about." I put away my knife and pulled out a bottle, "Here this should help the cut heal."
I rubbed the liquid all over his cut. Then put my hand in my pocket and wiped it clean.
The man smiled, "No problem. Have a nice-" he never got to finish his sentence.
He grabbed his throat, "I...feel strange."
I smiled, "It's the liquid." I got close to his ear, "It's poison. Enjoy the fuzzy feeling while it lasts."
Then I walked past him.
He was smiling, getting down on his knees, "I feel like I'm flying."
"3, 2, 1." I counted.
Suddenly, he bursted into a fit, rolling on the ground, blood spurting from his mouth.
He didn't cry for help, nor did he cry at all.
I just walked away, completely unnoticed.
I stuck tons of cloths on my sides. Tons. I looked fat almost.
I put a tight coat over all I was wearing.
"It's almost time to put my next plan into action."
"But first," I thought, "Sherlock has to go to Cooper Street to see the body of my last victim."
Then I remembered the note I placed on the dead man's body.
"Oh yes. Sherlock will be absolutely thrilled..." I thought, smiling.